Combination of Words
by Mesita
Summary: When Scott McCall walks into A&O Booksellers looking for self-improvement and organization books, Isaac Lahey takes it upon himself to give him excellent customer service.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note:**

I love Kali. Isaac doesn't love Kali and therefore his inner dialogue is mean to her.  
I also love Brayden and I'm so glad she has a name, now, and therefore has a cameo.  
Scott, in this fic, starts out a bit like Season 1 and turns into Season 3. Hence the shaggy hair and clumsiness.

This will be a longfic so... I know it doesn't feel like anything happens in this chapter. All I wanted to get accomplished was three things:  
1) Establish the bookstore  
2) Isaac meets Scott  
3) Hale backstory (with Derek being an awful surrogate brother and Cora being a much better surrogate sister)

Throughout this story, I will be mentioning a lot of authors and book titles. If you wish to look them up for your own reading, I'll have a list in the front notes of every chapter.

The books mentioned in this chapter are:  
"This Year I Will…" by M. J. Ryan  
"Blink" and "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell  
"Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" by Richard Carlson  
"The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" by Sean Covey  
The Fifty Shades Trilogy by E.L. James  
The Crossfire Novels by Sylvia Day

Also, I recommend google image searching author "Johanna Lindsey" and having a good laugh with me about cover art.

* * *

Chapter 1

Morning shifts at Alpha & Omega Booksellers were the worst. Isaac Lahey had been working for A&O for over a year and still couldn't get over the almost eerie quietness that surrounded the morning hours. Ever since the digital age took over the book industry, bookshops all over the country had fallen victim to e-content, thus significantly lowering the amount of traffic bookstores normally received.

Isaac tried to tell himself that it wasn't all bad. Isaac had more time to create displays that no one would see and shelve more books that no one would buy. Sections that had once been the pride and joy of bookstores now receded to the corners to make way for horrifying endcaps featuring the latest diet craze or entire tables devoted to the newest Maya Banks romance novel.

The Self Help and Religion sections grew and the Science Fiction and Young Adult sections shrank. He'd watched the bookstore morph into a haven that once catered to customers of all ages to a place where only patrons over the age of thirty dared to tread.

Occasionally, a youngster passed through the front doors, but only if they happened to be barely school age and screamed at their parents to let them run amok in the children's section just to press every button on the Sound Books. Isaac avoided the children's department at all costs. It was often filled with shrieking animal noises and obscure sound effects as miniature humans annoyed their parents with a sad trombone clip every time they pressed a button where Thomas the Tank Engine looked slightly disgruntled.

Isaac made sure to only shelve carts loaded with books for the side of the store furthest from screaming children. This, unfortunately, meant shelving non-fiction books and having to dodge old war veterans in the Military History section, but it was still better than endless hours of picking up stuffed animals and re-shelving the same Pete the Cat book a dozen times in one shift.

Seeing a patron close to Isaac's own age was a rarity—one that Isaac never placed much thought into until it happened. Usually he'd just stare at the poor soul and wonder why and how they wandered into a bookstore if they owned a phone with GPS.

Still, it wasn't as bad as the small Music and DVD section located in the back of the store. Cora Hale, Isaac's closest co-worker slash friend often complained that the average customer age back there was closer to sixty and it was a miracle that the store even carried new releases when all everyone wanted to buy was old westerns and out of print Cary Grant movies.

That was why, on a particularly slow day, just after most schools let out for the summer, Isaac spotted an incredibly handsome young man in the Self Improvement section and immediately took notice.

The customer in question had a battered old jacket that looked like it was a cross between leather, denim and possibly corduroy. It had a faded patch of an American flag on the side but because of the wear and tear, it looked like the patch was added later. Who added an already faded patch to an already faded jacket? It was probably a new trend from the side of fashion Isaac didn't follow.

Aside from his ferocious attire, the customer himself wasn't bad looking at all. In fact, if it hadn't been for the American flag catching him off guard, Isaac would have noticed the young man's jawline first. It looked strong and set, like maybe he'd spent his life glaring at someone or something. His hair was long for a man's and a bit shaggy. Isaac got the impression that he was either trying to look like a skateboarder or he'd simply ignored a pair of scissors for a few months. It was a bit frustrating because the hair prevented Isaac from getting a good look at the mystery customer's eyes as he poured over the titles on the shelf.

Still, he was absolutely beautiful and just the sight of him caused Isaac's breath to catch in his throat.

It wasn't a rare thing, this breath-catching phenomenon. Isaac found that most people were generally attractive, but they always had some kind of fault—like being overly annoying, or completely ignoring him or generally being a giant asshole. This guy looked like he would be none of these things, but a first look was often misleading. Isaac worked in a bookstore where he heard the term, 'Don't judge a book by its cover' almost daily.

That was the exact problem, though, everyone judged books by their cover. That was exactly why publishing companies made exciting book covers. It was kind of obvious.

Isaac's impromptu stalking routine was interrupted by an older woman asking if Johanna Lindsey had written anything new and he was forced to pry his eyes from the beautiful tanned specimen that haunted the Self Improvement section.

With an inward groan that Isaac hoped the older woman customer would not notice, he began his trek over to the romance section to pull a few books featuring various women posing seductively with shirtless, long-haired men in kilts. The old lady appeared delighted to have found a few books in which she hadn't read and Isaac was finally able to disappear into the stacks again.

It wouldn't make sense to walk over to the Self Improvement section again without any pre-established reason other than to find out how Short, Dark and Handsome's voice sounded. Isaac bet it sounded exactly how Joanna Lindsey probably described all those rugged Scottish men to sound.

With all the care and precision of an experienced bookseller, Isaac rummaged through a shelving cart until he located a few Self Improvement books that needed a home. Armed with a stack of Dr. Phil and Napoleon Hill titles, Isaac happily marched his way over to get himself a better look at the fascinating creature that was a young adult in a bookstore at eleven in the morning on a weekday.

It wasn't hard to strike up a conversation. Isaac felt the interstore communication phone on his belt and A&O Booksellers lanyard around his neck clearly identified him as an employee and therefore gave him exclusive talking privileges. Isaac said a silent thank you to the ceiling for bland openers.

"Is there a specific title you're looking for?" Isaac said as calmly and serenely as possible while simultaneously looking like he wasn't going to drop his stack of books. He didn't want to sound too breathy—that was just cliché. He had to give off the vibe that he was some sophisticated bookstore employee and not at all a college dropout.

The Mystery Man jumped a little when Isaac addressed him. Isaac often had that effect on people—which was strange, mostly considering the fact that Isaac was tall—as in freakishly tall. How could anyone miss that?

"I uh, I don't know," came a scratchy and unsure reply. Isaac found it perfect. "I'm just looking."

Isaac deflated a little. That was such a textbook copout. He was so disheartened by it that he shelved the Dr. Phil books in a completely erroneous location. "Well, if there's anything you're looking for let me know, and I'll see what I can do."

The handsome stranger flashed Isaac a smile that was probably reserved for bank tellers or the lady at the grocery store. Nevertheless, it completely changed his features. The once stoic jawline became uneven and a set of dimples surfaced that Isaac suddenly found himself wanting to see again. Isaac knew he was staring. "Thanks, man."

"No problem."

Isaac shelved the last of his books with as little finesse as possible. It was just plain awkward to continue to be in the presence of what could only be described as a modern skateboard god when there was nothing more for them to talk about. Why, oh why, did this guy have to be in the one section of the store that was the most private? One couldn't just walk up to someone in the Self Improvement section and ask if they need books on Anxiety or Addiction Recovery. These things had to be handled delicately.

Which meant that Isaac had to return to the Customer Services desk, his mission having been a failure. At that point, he wasn't even sure what his mission had been, anymore. He'd only wanted to talk to the guy, maybe learn his name—possibly even take him out for coffee. Wasn't that was people did these days? Isaac's roommate, Boyd, already had a girlfriend, so Isaac missed out on the whole two-best-friends-in-the-dating-scene part of his life.

It wasn't long before Isaac lost himself in helping customers locate various books for summer reading programs for their children and the occasional Janet Evanovich enthusiast. He'd almost forgotten about his encounter with the tanned mop-head when he heard a small, "Hey," coming from the other side of the counter.

Isaac looked up to see a pair of brown eyes and the hint of a set of dimples. Nevermind that this kid's hair was in serious need of a cut, Isaac could finally see his eyes and they were such a glorious color of café mocha that Isaac completely spaced out on the fact that he really should have acknowledged the guy with a response.

"So… it turns out I need some help after all?" The guy tried again.

Isaac shut his eyes for a second—long enough to clear his head. When he opened them again, he was back in bookseller mode. He could be professional, really, he could. Besides, the manager on duty, Kali, was working at another computer just behind him and she had serious eyes in the back of her head. There could be no flirting while she was on watch, that much Isaac knew.

"If you've got part of the title or the author of the book you're looking for, I can see what I can do," Isaac offered reflexively, his hands hovering over the home row keys on the keyboard.

"Well, see, that's the thing, I have no idea," the stranger let out a puff of laughter.

Under normal circumstances, Isaac's brain would have gone into major annoyance mode. Customers came in all the time looking for only the vague idea of a book and somehow expected one of the employees to somehow miraculously find it. Isaac had to make some extremely obscure google searches for more customers than he ever wanted.

But not this time. Isaac knew he'd developed a weak spot for this guy in less than a few minutes because he took this as the perfect opportunity to just talk and possibly get a bit more information about him. No harm, no foul, right?

"No problem, what kind of book were you looking for?"

"Um…" Rather than looking clueless, the guy actually looked embarrassed—like he didn't want to let Isaac in on the secret.

That wasn't helping. Isaac frantically searched his brain for something to say that wouldn't register as flirting by Assistant Manager Kali's standards. "Did I mention we have a bookseller-customer confidentiality policy?"

An eyebrow raise. "You do?"

"Not really, no. But I can't help you find what you're looking for, otherwise."

"Right. Yeah, so…" The stranger took a deep breath and Isaac couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders and chest puffed out in that awful jacket. Isaac placed a bet with himself then and there that this guy was probably ripped and worked out like ten times a week and played a bunch of sports and probably looked magnificent doing it. "So, I've had some pretty bad things happen this past year and I just want to fix them, you know? I want to turn my life around."

"Okay, that's a start. Do you want books on organization, then? Or… books about coping?"

"Organization?" the stranger said, his tone suggesting that he really had no idea what he was looking for. At least that was genuine and not at all an excuse to get Isaac to talk to him which may or may not have been a secret hope that Isaac hadn't known he'd put into existence.

"We've got a ton of titles for that kind of thing. Books that help you get back on the right track after a breakup or a car accident or losing a job or even just books that supposedly help you if you start thinking positively? It all depends. I have three sections: Self Improvement, Christian Inspiration, or New Age—specifically, Law of Attraction."

"Self-Improvement got me nowhere and I'm afraid the second option will just tell me to pray. What's Law of Attraction?"

"It's the belief that if you start thinking positively, good things will come your way."

"So… the same thing as Christian Inspiration."

"Essentially, but without God."

"Don't you have anything that's like one of those, 'how to slowly transform yourself like an 80s movie montage?'"

Isaac's resolve crumpled a little. The way the stranger sort of whined the last question only made Isaac like him even more. Part of him wanted to drag Cora out of the Music & DVD section just so they could ogle this beautiful bookstore gift together.

He'd been there once—to want a change so badly that only instant gratification would do. He'd done his best to get himself to where he was currently, and he liked to think he'd done a great job. He had a place to live, a good roommate and a decent job but none of it happened overnight. He'd had a lot of twists and turns before he could even get as far as he had. He wanted that instant change for this stranger, though. Whatever he'd been through, or was currently going through, certainly appeared as though it needed to be left behind and fast.

But as much as Isaac wanted to offer an instantaneous solution, he could only produce a small, sad smile. "Change doesn't happen overnight—but we'll see what we can find."

Isaac wasn't a big reader, which was strange considering his job. He'd landed the position at A&O thinking all he had to do was stock some books and say the alphabet to himself five thousand times a day. He'd been amazed at how much know-how was included in the position. Over the last year, Isaac's book count increased from the one or two curriculum-required reads he'd had in high school to about two or three books a month. The problem was that he read fiction—not Self-Help. The best he could do to help the handsome stranger was think of several titles he'd shelved recently or any popular titles other customers bought. It was worth a shot.

Rather than sort through the computer system, Isaac made a motion for the stranger to follow him back to the Self-Improvement section, but this time, he pointed out a smaller subsection identified by a small black label: Personal Growth.

In a matter of seconds Isaac was stacking the stranger's hands with several books: two titles by Malcolm Gladwell, some classics by Sean Covey and Richard Carlson and even an obscure title by M.J. Ryan.

"Don't Sweat the Small Stuff," the stranger read from one of the titles and then added a little sarcastically. "Sounds inspiring."

"I hear it's a good bathroom read," Isaac offered.

The stranger laughed as he flipped through the books in his hands. "I want something that'll tell me how to dress better and possibly make people jealous only, you know, in a completely professional and not asshole way."

"I think you need a personal trainer for that kind of thing. Or possibly a show on TLC," Isaac grinned.

Once more the stranger laughed, but this time when he did, he wasn't looking down at his books but directly at Isaac. "Thanks for doing this, man. I'll take all of these."

"All of them?" Isaac knew he was supposed to be a bookseller and therefore sell as many books as possible, but this kid couldn't be much older than he was—and what guy in their twenties had that much extra money?

"Well, yeah, if you recommended them, they have to be good."

Isaac felt a knot in his stomach forming. Visions of an angry customer coming back two days later with a lost receipt filled his head and he didn't want to be around when it happened. "Well, er, I mean, I haven't read them or anything so…"

"It's fine. I trust you. I'll get them." The guy sounded so confident in his decision that Isaac didn't even have the heart to refute it.

"Well…. If there's anything else you need, you just let me know, okay?" Isaac said automatically, his bookseller identity kicking in again.

"Nope, I think I got it. Thanks."

That was it. That was the end of the transaction. The mystery man would walk up to the cashwrap, pay for his books and be out of Isaac's life forever. In fact, the customer was already ignoring Isaac in favor of looking over his books.

An overhead page across the intercom snapped Isaac from his no-doubt stalker-inducing life choices. There was a line at the Customer Services desk and Isaac's skills were needed elsewhere.

Isaac didn't see the cute customer again for the rest of his shift. Old people came and went, parents with toddlers came and went. The only other highlight of Isaac's day was when Cora's older brother, Derek, stopped by to order some books for their deadbeat Uncle in prison. Isaac enjoyed watching Derek's facial features as he shoved the crumpled up list of requested books across Isaac's counter. It may have improved Isaac's day a little, but it certainly ruined Derek's.

Peter Hale, inmate number 924197-6 at the Beacon Hills Correctional Institution, had a very specific taste in books. Thanks to the media's need to label everything, Peter's taste had an actual name: Mommy Porn.

Some books were considered too erotic to read in prison, but only the popular novels such as the Fifty Shades Trilogy and the Crossfire Novels were banned. Any of the other hundreds of erotic fiction- gay, lesbian or straight- was fair game, and Peter somehow knew them all.

As Isaac prepared the order, Derek shifted uncomfortably in his leather jacket before finally leaning over the counter. "You don't have to smile so stupidly while you order these, you know."

Isaac barely glanced up from the computer. "I'm not smiling."

"You are," Derek grunted. "It looks creepy on you."

"You've seen me smile before, Derek."

"Not when it makes you look like an idiot. What happened?"

It wasn't like Derek to gossip. Isaac actually had to pause in the middle of typing out the title of one of the books in order to really catch his eye. Isaac knew the Hales for a long time seeing as Derek had been friends with Camden, Isaac's older brother. With the two of them hanging out all the time, it seemed only logical that Cora and Isaac would become friends as well. In fact, it was Cora who'd helped Isaac land the awesome bookselling job.

So, honestly, Isaac had to attribute some of his success to the Hales, but most of it was his own doing, especially since Derek was the worst surrogate brother in the world.

"Nothing happened." Isaac answered eventually.

Derek frowned momentarily and then broke out into the sort of grin that would have looked predatory if he didn't have little rabbit teeth. "You're not ordering my uncle the wrong books again, are you? Because I will find out and I will know it wasn't just a delivery error."

Isaac laughed. Like he would risk that again. It was funny the one and only time it ever happened.

"I didn't know you needed to fuel the gossip fire at the Junkyard."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I don't. You're just the second person I've run into today with a stupid goofy smile on their face."

"You ever stop to think it's a beautiful day, today?"

Derek glowered, completely ignoring Isaac's comment. "The first guy literally ran into me on my way in and kept smiling all throughout his apology."

"Maybe because your intimidation face is kind of hilarious." Derek then made the exact face in question and Isaac burst into a grin again. "See? I'm not the only one who is immune." Although, in reality, it had taken years for Isaac to even get to the laughing stage of Derek's glare. At one point, it had been terrifying, but Isaac had grown up and finally noticed the front.

"He needed help anyway," Derek said with a failed sigh and motioned for Isaac to finish with Peter's order. "He had a bunch of Self-Help books. Those things don't work."

A pain in Isaac's chest warned him that his heart may have stopped beating, if only for a split second. "You catch it name?"

"No?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "I don't go asking the names of people who run into me. Finish the damn order."

Isaac was pretty much finished with the order anyway and quickly hit print. With Derek and Peter's information in the system, already, he didn't have to worry much about typing up all the addresses, which was useful. As he impatiently waited for the printer to warm up, he drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk. "Was he short? Tan? Head like a mop?"

"I don't know," Derek said tersely.

"This was just now, right? When you came in?" Before Derek could nod, Isaac continued, "So he could still be in the parking lot?"

"Realistically, no," Derek deadpanned. "Unless he walked really slow and bumped into everyone. Why do you care?"

Ah, the typical Hale response. Isaac was used to it by now. "He's the reason I'm smiling like this," Isaac said smugly, pointing to his now hurting cheeks. He really hadn't known he'd been smiling off and on all that time. His face probably hated him for it.

Derek acknowledged that bit of information with a grimace. The printer finished spitting out Peter's order form and Derek didn't even wait for Isaac to hand it to him before he reached across the counter and took it from the printer tray.

"I don't have time for this," he barked in that I'm-sorry-I-even-asked way.

Isaac didn't stop smiling even as Derek walked away. "Did he ask about me?" Isaac called after him. Derek raised a hand, probably to flip Isaac off, but then he remembered where he was and just raised his fist instead as he walked away.

It was hard to consciously keep a straight face after that. Isaac would have gotten away with it, before, but now he had the knowledge that the mystery cute guy, who was also possibly clumsy, was in a giddy mood as well. Had Isaac done that? He couldn't be sure. Part of him wished for it, but the rational part of him reminded him that enough time had passed for the stranger to have gotten a phonecall with good news or maybe he was excited about changing his life, Isaac had no idea.

"Hey," the sharp managerial voice of Kali barked from behind him. "This isn't a toothpaste commercial, Lahey. Do me a favor and take these customer holds up to the front."

Isaac's smile faded quickly at her tone as he grabbed the stack of books from her hands. He made a conscious effort not to look at her strangely manicured nails—they'd always creeped him out. Why she couldn't shelve her own customer holds was beyond him, but he hadn't been hired to ask questions.

Just behind the cashwrap, A&O Booksellers set aside a set of shelves specifically to hold customer orders. Sometimes, if A&O didn't carry a certain book, they could order it in and later call the customer when it arrived, or, alternatively, if a customer was unable to purchase a book, they could hold it for three days. It was a simple system and easily maintainable considering the last names of every customer was printed in large, bold letters on a sheet of paper and rubber-banded around the book.

Isaac hadn't meant to look. He'd just happened to see the familiar cover of one of Malcolm Gladwell's books—one of the very books he'd just recommended to his fantasy customer.

Almost reflexively, Isaac crabbed the stack of books. There were three of them—all books he'd suggested. What were the odds that another customer had them on hold? Not to mention it was about half of what Isaac had pulled out, anyway. He stole a glance at the name on the spine.

McCall, Scott. Complete with phone number and hold date.

Oh god, if this was him… he even had a name like a Scottish shirtless beauty in one of those romance novels. Isaac never would have pinned him as a McCall, so the very idea filled him with doubt.

Isaac's heart leapt to this throat and he twisted toward the pretty young girl that worked the cashwrap a few days a week.

"Brayden," Isaac called, holding out the stack of books. "Did you put these books on hold?"

"Uh, yeah, not that long ago," Brayden answered casually as she turned away from her terminal. "The dude was a real cutie, but he didn't have enough money for all the books, so we're holding those. He probably won't be back. Why?"

Isaac wanted to hold the books to his chest but stopped himself based on manly principles and also because Brayden was watching. "Just wondering," he said eventually.

Brayden eyed him and then cracked a grin. "You thought he was cute, too. Oh my God, Isaac, are you serious? Don't be a stalker and take the phone number from that hold slip or I swear I will disown you as a friend and co-worker."

"I won't!" Isaac defended immediately. He placed the books back on the hold shelf, anyway, and said the name over and over in his head. Scott McCall, Scott McCall, Scott McCall. There was no way he could forget a name like that… not that knowing his name was going to make anything easier. Brayden was right, he'd probably never see Scott again.

But it was a nice thought, and, really, he had to give it to this Scott McCall. He'd certainly brightened Isaac's day—possibly his entire week, and all he had to do was exist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note**: A big thank you to my beta (ughcharlie on tumblr) for stepping up and sorting me out!

Second chapters are for World-Building and setting the stage for the Drama. Stay tuned.

(Disclaimer: I adore Erica and Boyd. Isaac is an unreliable narrator and his interpretation of Erica and Boyd are different from my own.)

The books/authors mentioned in this chapter are:  
Kathy Reichs (Author of the books the TV series 'Bones' is based on)  
World War Z by Max Brooks

* * *

The rest of Isaac's Scott-less shift went by without incident. It wasn't until he made his way back to the Music & DVD department to clock out for the day that he finally got to talk to someone else about Scott—and it wasn't even in the way he wanted.

"So," Cora Hale said, her voice dripping with boredom. The occasional beep of the PDT sounded as she sorted through that day's DVD shipment. "What did my brother want?"

"Just ordering more porn for your uncle," Isaac deadpanned as he typed in his passcode to clock out.

"Yeah? Jerk didn't even drop back here to say 'hi.'" Cora frowned. She had her long brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck which Isaac was still getting used to. She never wore her hair up outside of work. "You think he'd be nice to his little sister and bring her some relief from old men who won't shut up about westerns but no." If anyone could make the beeping of a PDT sound angry, it would be Cora.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I pissed him off anyway."

"He's always pissed about something, though," Cora shrugged. "But enough about my emotionally constipated brother. Brayden told me on her break that you were hitting on a poor, defenseless customer?" Her eyebrows shot up and waggled in a way that made Isaac wonder if it was genetic.

"Stop twisting words," Isaac corrected her, his own smile looking a bit teasing. "I was stalking him, not flirting."

Cora laughed a little too loudly and had to quiet down unless Kali came by. "At least you admit it. What was his name, detective?"

"Scott McCall. How Movie Star is that?" Isaac may or may not have sighed. He would never admit to it if he did. "I will probably never see him again."

"But at least you have some new night-time material," Cora said with a grin.

"You're on the clock, you know."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to live vicariously through you until Kali lets me out of this hell-hole. You'd think working in a Music & DVD department would be fun until you have to start categorizing Yoga and Pilates DVDs. Kill me, now," Cora groaned. "At least cute guys walk through your sections. Everyone our age downloads their music and movies from iTunes or something so I just get hit on by middle-aged men going through a divorce."

"The joys of the future," Isaac agreed. "I'm off, now, though. I need to stop by the store and pick up more toilet paper because we ran out of paper towels and Boyd spilled an entire two liter of soda the other night."

"Shouldn't you buy paper towels, too?"

"I've only got enough money for one and I'm not using a paper towel to—"

"I got it. Go home, Isaac."

"See you later, Cora."

Isaac didn't live very far from A&O so it was actually more convenient for him to walk. Sometimes, it felt like walking was actually faster than driving because otherwise, Isaac would have to wait for stoplights that never changed, or fight with other cars on who got to turn into what lane, first. At least with walking he could cut through lawns and parking lots.

His only stop was to the convenience store to pick up the kind of toilet paper that made him want to cry but it was cheap and he could pay for an entire pack using nothing but change, so he felt he wasn't allowed to complain.

The apartment Isaac shared with Boyd was only one step above Section 8, which society liked to call 'Student Housing.' Even though Isaac hadn't been a student for almost a year, Boyd still went to the Community College and he did enough coursework for the both of them combined. Isaac worked full-time, and took care of a slightly larger portion of the bills than Boyd did, but Boyd also took care of a bit more housework than Isaac, so they evened out. Isaac had never been more thankful for the fact that Boyd had grown up with a mother and grandmother and sister to keep him in place. It was impossible for Boyd not to have learned a thing or two about keeping a bachelor from being a total slob.

Not that Isaac was a total slob, but after he'd emancipated himself from his father's home, he never wanted to do housework, again. Boyd was a good cook, too, so Isaac counted himself extra lucky.

Boyd also happened to have some kind of heart of gold because even though he was the first one out of their tiny group of friends to turn 21, he refused to buy any of them (Read: Isaac, Cora and Erica) alcohol—despite the fact that they all had only a few months to a year until they could purchase it themselves. It may also have been because Boyd had his sights set on the Police Academy, but that wasn't a good enough reason in Isaac's opinion.

As Isaac approached their building, he dug around in his back pocket for his billfold where he usually kept the door key. Just as he had his wallet open in his hand, he happened to notice a familiar old Chevy Malibu parked under their carport.

Erica Reyes.

Isaac groaned inwardly. It wasn't that he hated Erica—it was quite the opposite. Erica was awesome. The problem was that she and Boyd recently discovered that they'd only been in love since the dawn of time and Isaac often felt like he was a third wheel or had been replaced by some kind of extensive honeymoon. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he still wanted his old friends back.

That, and he'd had enough gossip with Brayden and Cora for one day. He needed man time. Boyd was rational enough that if Isaac even started to think about how he might never have a chance with Scott McCall, granted he ever came back into the store, Boyd would knock some serious sense into him… and then make him relinquish the controls to Assassin's Creed III as punishment.

Although, Isaac thought as he marched up the outside stairs toward his apartment, Erica's presence might also mean that Boyd would let Isaac have full control of the PS4 because he was too busy sucking face. Isaac liked that idea.

With that in mind, Isaac made no major alterations to his homecoming routine. He unlocked the door, tossed the pack of toilet paper to the side, kicked off his shoes, and made a beeline for the living room couch. The second he sat down, he could feel the muscles in his legs screaming in the kind of pain that only feels good after an eight hour shift.

It felt like Isaac barely had a chance to contemplate the whereabouts of the missing remote before he heard a call from just down the hall—not that they had much of a hall in a two bedroom apartment.

"Isaac? You home already?"

"What do you mean already?" Isaac called back. He could see the remote sitting on top of a pizza box at the far corner of the coffee table. It was too far to reach comfortably, even with lanky arms like his, so he glared at it. "It's like four thirty or something."

Boyd's heavy footsteps moved across his bedroom and a moment later, he was standing sleepy-eyed in the doorframe to his room. Isaac acknowledged his presence by completely ignoring him in an attempt to grab the remote using The Force. "I was only supposed to take a nap, man. That was four hours ago," Boyd yawned, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Nice to know you've been hard at work all day. Can you hand me the remote?"

"Scoot over the extra ten inches and get it yourself," Boyd retorted before turning around to head back into his room. Isaac could hear him talking softly to Erica, and Erica's quiet protests for being awakened at such an early hour. Boyd was always so gentle with her, which came as a great surprise to Isaac because anyone who happened to be gentle to Erica got their ass kicked—but somehow Boyd got away with it. Then came the unmistakable kissing noises.

In a fit of annoyance, Isaac leaned over the extra few inches and grabbed the remote to the television. He quickly turned the TV on to drown out the sounds of what could only be described as cows eating grass. Isaac wanted to make sloppy kissing noises with someone just to annoy everyone around him. Why couldn't he do that? He was a good looking guy, once one got over how absurdly tall he was, or his sharp cheekbones or his hair that never wanted to cooperate. So why didn't he have anyone?

He knew the answer before he could even think of a proper question: he just didn't know anyone. Isaac refused to date any co-workers and that pretty much took care of Isaac's entire social life considering his only other two friends were dating each other.

And then there was the subject of Scott McCall, and he wasn't even a subject. He was just some guy Isaac happened to meet who coincidentally happened to be really cute and also really nice and also possibly sort of probably interested in him but only in speculation.

But then again… if Scott happened to be interested, and Isaac was able to pursue a relationship, then what? Then he'd get to make sloppy kiss noises at Boyd and Erica all day and his life would be complete?

Oh, hell yeah.

It would be like a dream come true. Isaac wondered if Scott's lips were as soft as they looked. It was eerie at how well Isaac could conjure up the beautifully perfect frame of Scott's face after only seeing it in a few short glances. He wanted to trace the curve of Scott's jaw—to see the frame of those muscles without the fashion disaster of a jacket in the way.

"Dude."

The sudden voice brought Isaac back from whatever fantasy his mind had decided to conjure about Scott, to a world where Boyd and Erica were judging him silently from across the room.

"A boner from QVC, Isaac, really? You've reached a new low," Erica teased.

Isaac hadn't realized he'd even flipped any channels at all; he'd just been staring off into space as his body subconsciously moved on auto-pilot. It could have been worse, Isaac thought as he grabbed a couch cushion to hide what was already a pretty uselessly embarrassing situation. "You can't bash on a surprise boner until you have a penis, Erica," Isaac muttered.

Erica just laughed. "Like I really care, anyway." She brushed her hair behind her ears and practically bounced toward the couch. "Hand me the remote. Judging by the cheap toilet paper by the door, I don't think you have enough money to buy a fake diamond necklace, so I'm staging a QVC intervention."

Isaac relinquished the remote to Erica, and just like that, the three of them assumed their typical afternoon ritual. Boyd made a lot of ruckus in the kitchen and complained that they didn't buy any proper food before giving up and popping a frozen lasagna in the oven while Erica and Isaac fought over Cartoon Network or a Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family. As the night wore on, Isaac thought less and less about Scott and more and more about how he was the Harry Potter to Boyd and Erica's Ron and Hermione, although that may have been because Erica's Harry Potter marathon won the Rock Paper Scissors fight.

Being part of a Golden Trio was supposed to make Isaac feel better about the fact that Boyd and Erica were sitting together on one side of the couch, their arms draped around each other. Instead, all Isaac could think about was that he finally escaped his metaphorical 'cupboard under the stairs' after the only family he cared about died and if he was going to be a true Harry Potter parallel, he'd have to marry Boyd's little sister, Alicia, and that just wasn't his cup of tea.

Feeling a little more down than he'd originally intended for the evening, Isaac excused himself to trudge awkwardly to his bedroom and shut the door.

It wasn't so bad being alone, though. Isaac actually enjoyed being alone—just so long as he had enough room to move around. He'd developed a bit of claustrophobia over the years no thanks to his father. The fear was so strong that when Isaac and Boyd went apartment hunting, Isaac made sure to find one with large bedroom windows. His room seemed to revolve around the window, with every bit of furniture pointing toward it like an altar.

Isaac curled up on a beat-up old round chair under the window and pulled World War Z, a book he'd checked out at work mostly because it was on the bestseller list, but the fact that it was about zombies didn't hurt. It was easy to lose himself in a book where romance seemed like a thing of the past and the world had been whittled down to nothing but science and survival.

He felt kind of stupid for feeling so down. He'd seen several attractive people come and go at the bookstore—he just hadn't felt like any of them were even close to being in his league. This Scott McCall resonated with him in a way that few people could. Isaac often felt like he was hard to get along with, and Cora, Boyd and Erica only put up with him because they had to. That particular feeling didn't come along often, but when it did, it hit Isaac hard in the gut.

Isaac made a sizable dent in the amount of pages he'd read before he heard the knock on the door.

It wasn't so much a knock as it was Erica rapping her hand against the wood once before opening the door. Isaac jumped a little at the movement more than the sound and shut his book quickly, effectively losing his place.

Erica grinned at him in such a way that Isaac couldn't tell if she was pitying him or not. "You gonna be somewhere tonight?" she said eventually. Isaac wondered if he detected guilt in her voice.

"No," Isaac responded. His hands itched to open his book again just to mark his place.

Erica shifted a little in the doorway. "You got headphones?"

Seriously? "Seriously?" She was asking him that now?

Erica sighed defensively. "It's been a while, okay? I thought you were working late tonight."

"Surprise, I'm not. Didn't you have all day, anyway?" Isaac didn't care if he sounded upset. He had a right to be. He worked hard for a crappy apartment and ate crappy food and felt like he had nothing to show for it. Maybe he was the one that needed all the Self Improvement books. In fact, the thought about the Self Improvement section brought up a fresh wave of Scott McCall and with it, another wave of uselessness.

"You know my work and school schedules are fucked up," Erica explained. "Nights are all I have."

"You don't even live here and you're kicking me out of my own house."

Erica frowned and pointed an accusing finger at Isaac like it was him who was being unreasonable. "It's not like that. I'm just asking a favor. Besides, you're a good looking guy, Isaac. Why don't you go out and find someone? We could double date. It'll be fun. We never go anywhere."

"Because we're broke," Isaac reminded her. "And I'm busy."

"You're reading a useless zombie book. You're not busy."

"It's for work!"

Erica rolled her eyes a bit impatiently. "When you and Boyd moved in together, you agreed there would be some alone nights. So here's the deal: I've got a friend who recently got out of a long term relationship and she's looking for a little bit of fun. Why don't you guys go on a blind date?"

As soon as Erica said, 'I've got a friend,' Isaac deliberately opened his book again and began hunting for where he left off. "Well that's a recipe for a bad teen novel."

"Just do it, okay? She's not looking for anything serious, so there's no pressure for a second date."

"I knew it. You _are_ trying to get rid of me."

Erica's features softened from annoyance to almost pleading. "I love you, Isaac. I do. But I need to get laid, too."

"And that's why they invented motels," Isaac deadpanned. He knew with every comment, Erica was losing her patience. It was dangerous to start a fight with her, but Isaac wasn't in the mood anymore. He'd somehow gone from smiling and happy about the universe while at work to wanting nothing to do with anyone or anything once he got home. It was a dangerous mood swing.

"Just go on the damn date, Lahey," Boyd's heavy voice called out from the living room as if it were the be-all-end-all of the argument. Isaac felt the betrayal like a thousand pound weight.

Having finally found his page, Isaac stuffed his makeshift bookmark inside and sighed. "Ugh, fine. But I'm doing it for Boyd on account of his irresistible arms."

Erica just grinned and traipsed across Isaac's room to plant a kiss on Isaac's forehead. "Save those compliments for your date. I'll text her and let her know."

"If she turns out to be a serial killer and stabs me to death, I will haunt you." Isaac felt the need to inform her.

Erica just laughed and flipped him off. Somehow, when she did that, it didn't come off as condescending at all. "Seriously though, Lahey. If you're staying in tonight, get out your headphones. I'll text my friend about you and I'll let you know when she's free." She made a move to head toward the door but Isaac stopped her.

"What am I getting out of all this?"

Erica thought for a moment. "I'll never ask you to date another one of my friends again, for one."

Isaac narrowed his eyes to let her know that wasn't exactly an even trade.

With a sigh, Erica scrunched up her face. "I don't know. I'll think of something. Until then, it's an IOU, okay? Although part of me thinks we're actually doing _you_ the favor. You seem more depressed than usual, tonight, and it's time we did something about it."

"So you're staging an intervention."

"Not exactly," Erica said with a shrug, "But if that's how you want to look at it."

"I'll go on this date, but I can guarantee you I won't like her," Isaac said.

Erica shut her eyes and steeled her jaw. "Then just be her friend," she said between clenched teeth. "One can never have too many of those."

With that final thought, Erica shut the door to Isaac's room. Her lack of presence was felt and even though Isaac could still hear the television from the living room, the silence that encased his own room suffocated him. He opened World War Z again, slowly, but the words danced around on their lines with uneven twirls. After a few moments of straining, Isaac gave up, turned the light out and curled up on his bed without bothering to change out of his work clothes.

He didn't think he was being unreasonable. He often felt like a third wheel, but he usually used that to his advantaged and sat in between Erica and Boyd on the couch or draped his hands around them or joked about being included intimately. Tonight, things were different.

Tonight, all Isaac could think about was a pair of brown eyes and the appearance and disappearance of dimples under a mop of dark hair. He didn't want to be on the other end of Erica's match-making schemes. Why couldn't the world be a little nicer to him and give him something nice? He'd lost the lottery when it came to decent living accommodations, high-paying jobs and attentive fathers. If he could just catch a break somewhere—anywhere…

When Isaac opened his eyes again, the morning sunlight threatened to break through his blinds. With a groggy arm, he searched around the covers of his bed for his phone and groaned when he realized he still had quite a while before work. He hated having too much time before his shift. There was literally nothing to do except wait.

He had a missed text from Erica, though. He groaned when he read the content.

_Friday night. Mongolian Barbecue. Her name is Allison._

She had been serious about that date, after all.

* * *

The rest of the week went by without incident. Scott didn't return for his books, which wasn't a big surprise. Customers rarely came back for books they placed on hold. Either they still didn't have the money, they ran out of time, or they forgot. Either way, Isaac slowly came to terms with the fact that Scott McCall was a one-time occurrence and wouldn't be happening again.

By the time Friday rolled around, Isaac was actually looking forward to the blind date. Maybe this mysterious Allison girl would make him feel much better about himself to the point that if Scott ever did decide to grace A&O Booksellers with his presence again, Isaac would be ready for him.

In order to keep up the appearances of the blind date protocol, and because Isaac did not have a reliable method of transportation, he was going to meet Allison at the Mongolian Barbecue place.

…except the bus was late and it looked like it was going to rain.

Isaac was almost one hundred percent he'd been cursed by some angry deity because that could be the only plausible reason the sky threatened to unleash a downpour on him. After huddling under a bus overhang to keep out of the late Spring wind, he texted Allison to let her know he was going to be late.

…only to receive a text asking him where he was so that she could just pick him up.

Isaac learned a long time ago through Cora and Erica that the women in his life could probably beat him to a pulp with just their stares, so the simple fact that Allison was going to be the one driving him around on their "date" didn't even make him blink.

It was, however, embarrassing when she showed up in a perfectly clean and expensive looking car.

"You're Isaac?" Allison asked once she'd pulled up to the curb. She had to yell it across the passenger seat of her car. Isaac ducked to get a peek through the rolled down window and scrunched up his face, as if that were easier for him to see inside the darkness of the vehicle. She too had brown hair and brown eyes, but her fair skin almost glowed and her hair looked like a completely different mop than Scott's. Her jaw was square and even and military. Isaac didn't know what to think.

"Only if you're Allison," he responded.

Just before leaning over to unlock the doors, Allison gave Isaac the tiniest hint of a death glare. She barely had to change her expression at all to do it. "I have mace and martial arts training if you turn out to be a serial killer."

"Funny, if you turned out to be a serial killer, I just promised Erica I would haunt her."

Allison suddenly burst into laughter, probably relieved that the two of them had a mutual friend to break the ice. "Erica isn't afraid of anything."

"She'll be afraid of me."

"Doubt it."

"Aren't you supposed to be nice to the person you're taking out on a date?"

"I am being nice," Allison said, her eyes twinkling with some kind of laughter. "I'm driving you, aren't I?"

She had a point. A cool car certainly won when placed against the noisy horror that was public transportation. Isaac decided then and there that maybe she was going to be okay.

For the moment.

All throughout dinner the only thing Allison wanted to talk about was Isaac and his life—which was the absolutely last subject Isaac wanted to reveal. If he so much as inquired about anything in her life, she would stare at her food and change the subject. Isaac scoured his brain for a reason, but the only thing he could remember about her was that Erica said she'd just gotten out of a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, that left Isaac with more questions than answers.

As the night wore on, dinner became increasingly awkward. Isaac ate more than he ever had in weeks just so he could keep heading over to the buffet to fill another bowl with stir fry ingredients and avoid talking about his life.

The weather had seriously taken a turn for the worse. The rain pounded hard on the windows of the restaurant, that Isaac wasn't sure how much long they'd hold up against the onslaught. After Isaac shot down yet another question about his job, Allison stopped nursing her drink, stole a glance at the storm outside and sighed.

"This is going terribly. I think I've forgotten how to date." She frowned.

Isaac had been on the verge of coming up with an excuse to leave until she finally shattered whatever awkward bubble they'd created. He could have hugged her based solely on the fact that her comment was the most real thing she'd said to him all night. "I never date, so I have no idea what I'm doing."

Allison let out a small puff of laughter. "I don't either. According to a friend of mine, I'm not supposed to bring up exes or anything I ever did with an ex but…. We were together for three years. That's like trying to ignore most of my adult life."

"It's okay." Isaac waved her uncertain expression away. He was just happy to be talking about her, finally. "I don't know what Erica told you, but I agreed to this to help her out. So please don't be offended if I'm not interested in dating. On the bright side, though, if you need to talk about your ex, then that's cool."

"Oh thank God." Allison deflated a little. "It's not that I want to talk about him, it's just that avoiding the subject feels more strained than anything else. He was a nice guy, don't get me wrong. Things just didn't work out romantically. We're still friends, though."

"That's… that's good," Isaac commented awkwardly. Was there something he was supposed to say to that?

Allison looked just as lost as he did. "So… yeah, I guess I'm not interested in dating, either. I just want to get used to being on my own, again."

"It's not so hard." He shrugged. "Being alone is easy. It's making connections that's hard. Just spend a week holed up in your room and read all night, then get back to me about being on your own."

"You know," Allison said with a small snicker, "I've been doing just that, actually. I accidentally got myself into these awesome Kathy Reichs novels. My father tried coaxing me out of my room with chocolate cake, he was so worried."

Isaac wished someone would coax him out of his room with chocolate cake. Or coax him into his room with chocolate cake. So long as cake was involved, any outcome was desirable.

At the thought of Allison reading, though, Isaac's embedded bookselling program kicked into gear and he began recommending some book series to her without even realizing what he was doing. By the end of the night, Allison had filled up a napkin with names of authors and titles and stuffed it into her purse. She even insisted upon paying for her portion of the meal saying she was sorry for being so boring. Isaac refuted the comment, saying that he wasn't really helping matters, either, but the compromise remained the same. Apparently two boring people paid for their own meals. Isaac had no idea if that was an official rule of dating etiquette, but he was pretty sure they'd broken about three societal norms at least.

It wasn't until they were running back to Allison's car in the rain that Isaac finally felt like the evening was going okay.

He'd only been half right when he responded to Erica's original match-making offer. He and Allison definitely weren't going to go on another date—but they ended what could have been a potentially horrible night on a good note. In fact, when Allison dropped Isaac off at his apartment complex, he was smiling when he walked up the stairs. As it turned out, she was funny and her eyelashes were interesting to look at and when he told her as such, she laughed and playfully punched him in the arm making that the only physical contact the two of them engaged in the entire night.

Isaac liked Allison, and if he happened to be hanging out with Boyd and Erica any time soon, he wouldn't mind if Allison was invited.

He was astonished at how much he really hoped he'd see her again.

* * *

"I heard you went on a daaaate," Cora sang in her most irritating of voices. Isaac glared hard at the time clock in the Music & DVD department. He hated working Saturday. The worst people always went shopping on Saturdays. "You giving up on dream boy so soon?"

"It wasn't like that," Isaac said. "She was pretty cool, but we're not dating. You can have her if you want."

"As awesome as that sounds, I'm a Hale, and am therefore doomed."

"At least you're aware of it." Isaac shrugged. "If you want, I can get your cat collection started by buying you a kitten for Christmas."

"I'm more of a dog person, actually." Cora pointed out, while deliberately ignoring a customer as they walked past. "Besides, I'm still living vicariously through you, remember? It's a Saturday, Lahey. Go out there; stalk someone new."

"I love your opinion of me," Isaac grinned as he punched in his numbers to finally clock in. "Just for that, I'm going to make an announcement on the overhead about your Criterion DVD sale. Have fun denying senior citizen discounts."

"I take back every time I've never shown affection for you," Cora deadpanned.

Isaac laughed and made his way toward the center of the store to his spot at the Customer Services desk. He was about to make good on his threat by picking up the phone for the intercom when he happened to glance upward and catch a familiar set of eyelashes.

"Hey," Allison said, her wide smile illuminating her face. "Where's your Hunting section?"

Isaac slowly set down the phone and pointed to the left. "It's a sub-section of Sports. Did you know I would be working today?"

"Nah, lucky guess." She shrugged. "I'm actually here to pick up some books for a friend, but I thought, hey, why not get something for me too, right?"

"Yeah," Isaac agreed. His eyes shifted toward the Music & DVD section where Cora was eyeing him cryptically through the EAS scanners. Desperate to get out of her eyesight, Isaac quickly stepped away from the Customer Services counter. "Let me take you to the right section."

Once safely away from the hawk-like gaze of Cora Hale, Isaac felt like he could breath. Cora didn't know Allison at all, so there was no way of her knowing she had been Isaac's mystery date. The familiarity and smiles were dead giveaways, though, and the last thing Isaac needed was unnecessary teasing.

As soon as they reached the correct section, Allison immediately began scanning the spines of books. It took Isaac a moment for everything to register, but when it did, he raised both eyebrows. "You're into hunting?"

"Yeah, with my dad," Allison said more to the bookshelf than to Isaac. "Mostly just small game, but it's fun. My ex didn't like it, much. I figure now that I'm single, I can go on all the hunting trips I want, right?"

Isaac was saved from responding when a voice from a nearby aisle caused all the hairs to stand straight out on the back of his neck.

"Allison! There you are!"

Isaac was too afraid to turn around, in case his suspicions were correct. The look on Allison's face as she responded to her name confused Isaac a little, though. She looked startled at first, then a brief flash of pain or sadness and then finally her expression became a blank slate.

Slowly, Isaac turned around and every single internal organ in his body decided it was going to inflict pain on him all at once. Scott McCall walked toward them while talking downward at the books in his hands.

"They ended up putting my books back on the shelf because I didn't pick them up in time, but I think I got the right ones."

Allison sighed, but it sounded almost embarrassed. What did she have to be embarrassed about? "Did you try asking someone who works here? Like Isaac?"

"Who?" Scott asked, finally looking up from his books. His eyes darted from Allison to Isaac, but when brown eyes met blue, they stuck and he swallowed, hard, the bounce of his Adam's apple temporarily distracting Isaac from the awkwardness of the entire moment.

"I'm so sorry about this, Isaac," Allison apologized. She waved her hands quickly and nonchalantly, like this sort of thing was mundane and not at all a life-changing experience. "This is Scott, the friend I was talking to you about."

Scott almost flinched at the word 'friend.' Isaac caught it mostly because he couldn't keep his eyes off that uneven jawline. "We've met," Isaac said at length, but his voice sounded scratchy, like it didn't want to work properly.

Isaac didn't know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Scott to be as astonished as Isaac was to see him again. Maybe he wanted them to hug dramatically and give heartfelt confessions to each other. Either way, every scenario that flashed through Isaac's mind had a happy ending.

What he didn't expect was for Scott's once dimple-dotted smiling features to disappear and be replaced with an unreadable expression. "_You're_ Isaac?"

Isaac was taken aback. "I—what?"

"Mongolian Barbecue Isaac?"

"Scott," Allison interjected. "Please, it wasn't like that and you know it."

Isaac half expected a punch to the face for some reason, but nothing came. Instead, when Scott put out his hand, it was for Isaac to shake. "Thanks for the books, man," he said.

"Any time," came Isaac's confused voice. He took Scott's hand in his own, but instead of getting to relish in the fact that he was actually touching a man he never thought he'd see again, he was overcome with trepidation.

With a firm nod to both of them, Scott held up his books. "I'm going to pay for these. Allison, I'll meet you out front, okay?"

"Okay," came Allison's voice. She sounded sheepish. Guilty. It completely confused Isaac to the point that he almost wanted to shout at the ceiling.

"Is he okay?" he asked her the moment Scott was out of earshot.

Allison gently placed the hunting book she'd been holding back on the shelf like someone who'd lost their appetite. "We're trying to be friends, but it's taking some getting used to," she explained. "Scott is actually… you know…"

Isaac swallowed, hard. He got it. He understood even though the knowledge poked about a dozen holes in all of his unspoken fantasies. "The ex."

"Yeah."

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **

Massive shoutout again to my beta, ughcharlie on tumblr!

And here's the obligatory apology for the long wait and only a short chapter to show for it. I can assure you there will be "action" in the next chapter. And drama. But for now, enjoy the wit of Cora.

* * *

"It's not even that funny."

"Are you kidding me? It's hilarious! You have two love connections in a week and they turn out to be ex-lovers! How is that not funny?" Cora Hale whispered loudly from her position behind a display. The entire Music & DVD department was in the middle of a monthly changeover that no one seemed to care about except the company. Sometimes Isaac wanted to meet the head of merchandising for Alpha & Omega Booksellers and ring his neck. He'd heard from the grapevine that the guy was actually blind, which would probably explain the horrible display plans.

"It's not funny from my end," Isaac hissed. "Not all of us can adapt an effective no-dating policy to our lives."

Cora set aside a stack of DVDs that needed to be stickered for a promotion no one would notice. "The day I decided to say no to everyone was the day my life improved."

"Is that your advice, then?" asked Isaac. "Just forget both of them and move on?"

"Realistically, yes," Cora replied. "But for the sake of my boredom, you need to go on more dates. In fact, I think you need to go on a date with both of them simultaneously in two different outfits and have to excuse yourself every ten seconds to use the restroom to change."

"You know that never actually happens in real life."

"Which is exactly why you should do it!"

"Except for the fact that I'm only interested in Scott. Allison's pretty cool and all but…"

"…but she's the only one who made a follow-up meeting," Cora finished for him. She stood up and handed Isaac a stack of DVDs despite the fact that he was off the clock. Isaac reluctantly followed her to the desk to set the stack down. "I think she likes you," Cora started. A sudden gasp shook through her and she stared open-mouthed at Isaac like she'd had some great revelation. "You're in a love triangle."

"No," Isaac answered immediately. "No love triangle. No chick flick date setup. No declarations of love made in an airport. This is real life, Cora. The best case scenario is for me to forget both of them. I'm not going to get caught up in their mess."

Cora flashed him a predatory grin. She was so much better at those than her brother. At least her creepy smiles instilled the proper amount of fear. "Yeah, right."

"Just for that, I'm not staying an extra hour until you get off work," Isaac retorted. When Cora didn't bother to mask her disappointment, Isaac couldn't help but feel a little proud. "You can just go home after work."

"But!" Cora's mouth bobbed open and shut for a few seconds. "But Derek is home and he smells."

Isaac laughed loudly before he could even cover his mouth with his hand. It was like sending up a flare for Kali to see, or rather, hear. In seconds, their boss was at the entrance to the Music & DVD department, tapping her foot.

"Are you off the clock, Lahey?"

Isaac's laughter stopped immediately and he cowed—but only enough to let Kali know that she was still the boss. How could one question sound so menacing? He'd never live it down if Cora saw just how intimidating Isaac thought Kali to be. "Yes ma'am."

"Then go home. Cora has work to do."

"Yes ma'am."

Just as Isaac turned to leave, Cora flashed him a quick look and mimed something that Isaac assumed meant, 'Text me.'

Isaac hadn't meant to stop by the cash wrap on his way out the door. Brayden just happened to be stocking bookmarks and took notice of him as he was leaving. Before Isaac could even nod or give her a small wave goodbye, she held her hand out to stop him.

"Cutie McBooty was in, today. Did you see him?"

Isaac groaned inwardly. He'd forgotten Brayden had been the one to take down Scott's information to hold his books and that she'd also been the one to ring up his items. Twice.

"Yeah, I saw him." Isaac didn't bother to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Brayden bunched up her brow in a sympathetic way and said, "Not into guys?"

"He was here with his ex-girlfriend," Isaac explained. The door was two feet away. Theoretically he could just start running, right? He was tired of talking about how unfortunate his non-existent love life could be.

"Ouch," Brayden said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Isaac. There's always next time, right?"

"You say that like there will be a next time," muttered Isaac.

He didn't wait to hear her response. It was probably something sympathetic anyway. He marched out the front doors without so much as a wave. He welcomed the long trudge across the parking lot toward his apartments. The more distance he placed between himself and the mess that happened at the bookstore, the better.

Why did everyone at work care so much about his love life anyway? He knew the moment he got home neither Boyd nor Erica would give two shits about how much he really wanted someone, particularly a Scott someone, to think he was worth something. By the time he made it out of the parking lot, he'd built up an anger inside himself for placing his own value in how others saw him. He knew better and he knew he knew better. He was just making things worse for himself.

Because really, the heart of the matter was that Allison clearly liked him instead of Scott. Whether that attraction was romantic or platonic was completely up in the air, but she hadn't been scared off by Isaac's standoffish behavior at the restaurant. How could he possibly let her down nicely and still keep himself available? Why did people even have to be available, anyway? It was like Isaac had a large 'Available For Business' sign on his back that he wanted to go away.

He knew, even as he practically pulled himself up the stairs to his apartment by the handrails, he probably wouldn't do anything. Isaac wasn't as proactive as he'd like when it came to matters of the heart. Now, when it came to revenge, Isaac was all over that. Boyd and Isaac were once harassed on their way home one night by some drive-by assholes and Isaac spent the next week and a half tracking them down to black out their tail lights.

But spending a week and a half on winning someone's heart? Way out of his league.

He could always ask Erica, but that was a disaster waiting to happen.

The moment the disastrous thought even crossed his mind, a distinctive crash could be heard through the walls of the apartment complex. Despite the fatigue in Isaac's muscles, he responded immediately once he realized it was from his own apartment.

When he opened the front door, he found Erica standing in the kitchen frowning at a pile of broken glass. She stood absolutely still, like the shards of glass might move if she moved. There didn't appear to be blood anywhere, which was a definite plus.

Before Isaac could say anything, Erica shut her eyes and forced an incredibly fake smile. "Of course you had to come home _right now_."

"I could come home later if that's better for you." With the immediate danger passed, Isaac casually pointed toward the outside world. He really would rather not go back out, again. His feet hurt.

"No, it's just… I was hoping to have this all cleaned up before anyone noticed. Now that I think about it, though, it probably doesn't even matter. I'm the one who bought the glasses. The only one who can be mad about it is me," Erica said. The realization caused her to deflate a little. Her shoulders slumped in a way that allowed her to relax and she stepped out of the pile of glass.

"The joys of living on your own," Isaac began, "Technically."

"It just takes some getting used to is all. I swore I thought my mother would come flying into the room to scream her head off about how useless I am."

Isaac flopped his arms about him tiredly. "Well, you just have me, and I'm too tired to yell."

"How sweet," said Erica sarcastically. "Hand me the broom."

Isaac reached across the foyer for their broom and tossed it across the small kitchen to Erica who went to work immediately cleaning up the glass. Rather than helping her, Isaac took a seat at the table and watched. "What'd you do to break the glass anyway?"

"I wanted to see if it would bounce."

"Is that a jab because I'm not helping you?"

"It was a deliberately false answer because I was working on a surprise for you and Boyd. Open the trashcan."

Isaac casually leaned over to flip the lid of the trashcan so Erica could dispose of the shards. She handed him the broom afterward and almost forced him to stand up again and put it back in its place rather than simply toss the broom in the vague location of the corner.

"The surprise was breaking a cup?" Isaac asked.

"The surprise was a cake, asshole." Erica snapped. "The cup was for me. My hands were just slippery from baking."

Isaac scanned the kitchen only to find that it was relatively clean and held no sign of a recently baked cake.

Erica must have seen him looking because she frowned and quickly spoke up. "It didn't turn out right, so it's in the trash. I've already cleaned up." She clapped her hands once. "I suppose that means the new surprise is that you get to take out the trash!"

Isaac glared harshly at the kitchen trashcan. No doubt it was a gloppy mess of failed cake batter and shards of broken glass. It was the perfect concoction to fall on and die a messy bacteria filled death. It also meant he had to go down two flights of stairs—and then back up again.

"Can't Boyd do it?"

"He's working."

"Can't you do it?"

"Isaac Andrew Lahey." Erica's voice adopted a commanding tone that caused Isaac's back to involuntarily straighten. "I know you're tired, I get it. But this," she gestured wildly, "needs to stop."

"What?"

"You! Just… all of you! You go to work, you come home, you mope. That's all you do. You go out once and make no plans of ever doing it again and then you complain. Boyd keeps asking me to step in again and just fix whatever rut you've gotten yourself into but I'm out of ideas, okay? I'm done. The only person who can help you is you."

Isaac hadn't expected to come home and have Erica lecture him like a parent. The still adolescent side of him wanted to lash out at her and tell her she was wrong. He was completely happy. She was just making things up and being demanding. The rational part him knew she was right. He didn't particularly enjoy being rude to her and Boyd. It was just easy because everything else in his life was a mess.

And his life wasn't even that messy.

He sighed. "I'll take out the trash."

"Thank you."

* * *

By the time Isaac returned from his arduous journey to the dumpster, he found Erica splayed out on the couch, her feet dangling over an armrest as she typed away on her cellphone.

Isaac thought he would be able to sneak by her unnoticed. In fact, he'd gotten as far as the doorway to his room before he heard, "Hey, Isaac."

With a cringe, Isaac slowly leaned back toward the living room. "Hey, Erica," he mimicked.

"So Allison says she ran into you at work today?"

Oh, great. Isaac groaned inwardly. He'd almost forgotten she and Erica were friends. "Yeah, she was looking for book. That's generally what people do at a bookstore."

"I don't know." Erica grinned from the couch. "She's inviting us all out dancing and she requested you specifically by name."

"She has my number," Isaac muttered. "She can text me herself."

"It doesn't work like that. It's too forward. The conventional dating rules for the 21st century require a third person proxy: me. And I'm responding to her invitation with three 'yes's'. We're going."

Isaac nearly rolled his eyes. Nearly. A part of him didn't want Erica to catch him in the act. "Who makes these rules?"

Erica tried to shrug, but from her position on the couch, it came off as an awkward wiggle. "Society. Make sure you're ready by eight."

"This isn't going to be just the four of us, is it?" Isaac retaliated quickly, before Erica suddenly started planning the rest of his life for him. He needed to stop her before she got ahead. "Did she say who all was going? Ask her." Two minutes in and he was already pressing Erica for questions. That wasn't a good sign.

"Hold on, I'll ask. Give me a second," Erica said absent-mindedly as she texted. It was a miracle that she could text and talk at the same time using two completely different sentences. Isaac still had trouble using punctuation but only because it was annoying to have to flip through various keyboards.

In no time at all, Erica's phone chimed with a text back. It was difficult to read her facial expression so Isaac assumed she received good news just to make himself feel better.

Erica squinted at her phone like her eyesight took a turn for the worse and said, "It looks like… this is a birthday party for some kid named Stiles? So there will be other people there."

"Do we need to bring presents?"

"It's not that kind of birthday party."

"Thank God." Isaac's shoulder slumped with a relief he hadn't known he'd needed. In two seconds his mind had gone through over thirteen different scenarios on how he could avoid bringing a present.

Still, a tiny sliver of hope rose in Isaac's chest. If Allison and Scott had been together for so long, surely they must have mutual friends. There was a very, very good chance that Scott would be there, too. Isaac could explain himself. He couldn't just leave Scott assuming everything after the bookstore fiasco that morning.

The thought of seeing Scott again gave Isaac the motivation to pick out an outfit and shower. He still had a few hours before he needed to be ready so the only logical explanation was to text Cora and bother her about Allison's invitation.

When he didn't get an immediate reply, he remembered she was probably still at work and wouldn't be off for a while, so he resigned himself to picking up his book, again. This time, however, he was in a much better mood when he started to read and it was easier to concentrate.

About an hour later, Cora texted him back. Isaac could just hear her mocking tone as she replied with a sarcastic,_ /You? Bothering me on a Saturday night? What did you do with Isaac?/_

Isaac chuckled to himself and texted the details of the evening. It hadn't occurred to him that he should have asked for Erica's permission to invite Cora but it was a birthday party, right? Isaac could have a friend coincidentally show up if he wanted. Besides, with Cora there, if Isaac struck out with Scott, he could always fall back on her. Cora was an excellent wingman.

Three minutes into his correspondence with Cora, Isaac was suddenly smiling. Tonight had the potential to be a nice change of pace. Erica would get off his back and Boyd would talk to him like normal, again. Cora had enough teasing fodder for a month and he could figure out the mess between him, Allison and Scott before it even became a proper mess.

His glee felt short-lived when his phone chimed again with another text from Cora. Isaac's mood immediately fell when he read it.

_/Is it okay if I bring Grouchy? He's being over-protective again./_

Isaac rubbed his face in annoyance. Derek was a buzzkill and everyone knew it. He'd probably monitor their alcohol intake and make sure no one bought them any drinks because they weren't quite twenty one. Isaac liked to think he and Cora were grown adults, now, and they didn't need Derek to police them anymore. And yet, if Cora didn't bring Derek, chances were she couldn't go. Isaac really needed Cora to be there for him.

/_Fine_/. He reluctantly texted back.

/_We'll find a way to give him the slip. We always do./_

/_Just be there ok I need Allison and Scott backup_/. Isaac gave his phone a worried frown before he hit send, as if maybe Cora would be able to see it on her end. He'd been so excited about the night for all of a few minutes, and now he wasn't sure. Stupid Derek Hale and his stupid brooding nature. He'd probably bring the mood of the entire club down in less than a minute. Scott would probably take one look at him and think Isaac had some creepy bodyguard or older brother and back off. They would definitely have to find a way to give Derek the slip. Isaac's phone chimed again.

/_I got you, dude. I've watched enough bro movies. I know how this works./_

Cora and her obscure movie references would have to make up for the ominous presence of her older brother.

With a heavy sigh, Isaac resigned himself to waiting for Boyd to get home from work. He needed to talk to someone with more testosterone than estrogen running through their bloodstream.

And yet, when Boyd finally did come home, the two of them ended up hogging the bathroom. They spent nearly twenty minutes comparing colognes until Isaac found the perfect scent that wasn't too overpowering and yet didn't make him smell cheap.

True to his nature, Boyd mostly lingered to the side, leaning against the far wall of the bathroom as Isaac fought with his curls in the mirror.

"I kind of miss this, you know, getting all worked up about my appearance," Boyd said wistfully. Through the mirror, Isaac watched Boyd fold his massive arms across his chest and shake his head fondly.

"What are you talking about? You don't have to do anything. You weren't born with unruly curls."

"Yeah?" Boyd raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I shave my head?"

Isaac frowned, but it was short-lived. He imagined Boyd with a nest of curly hair on his head. "I'm not shaving my head."

Boyd unfolded his arms to raise his hand defensively. "I'm just saying, maybe a little haircut would help."

Isaac's gaze shifted from the Boyd in the mirror to the Boyd directly behind him. "Maybe. I'll look into it." His hair was getting a little long, after all. Maybe a cut would keep his curls in check.

"Are you girls ready, yet?" Erica's annoyed voice cracked through the bathroom door.

Boyd laughed and shouted, "Three seconds!" before reaching over Isaac's shoulder to pop the collar of his button-down. He gave Isaac a knowing look despite the fact that Isaac was going to protest the fashion mistake.

Without another word, Boyd opened the bathroom door. Isaac could just see Erica recoil when the wave of cologne hit her. She sputtered in the hallway and fanned her arms in front of her. "Did you bathe in Axe?"

"It will disperse," Boyd said. Erica let the subject drop in favor of fawning over Isaac's chosen outfit.

"You look amazing," she cooed. She admired him for a good thirty seconds before finally reaching over and smoothing down Isaac's popped collar. Isaac could see Boyd's face fall.

Tonight was going to be a long night. He could tell.


	4. Chapter 4

(**Notes**:Guys, I seriously have the most patient and efficient beta in the world. Ughcharlie, you're so awesome.

Also thanks to fapitfelix and thesharminator for combined efforts in naming the pretentious night club!)

.

* * *

Isaac knew there were dance clubs all over Beacon Hills. It seemed like the radio advertised a new club every other week. The problem was that he just hadn't been to any of them save for the one time in high school when Matt Daehler somehow convinced him to go to a gay bar called The Jungle.

As it turned out, someone thought it would be fashionable to bring in their pet lizard to wear around their shoulders and the poor thing somehow fell off and got trampled on the dance floor. The entire club had to be evacuated for cleanup. Isaac spent most of the night sitting on a curb with Matt while he called everyone he knew for a ride.

Erica assured him that history would not repeat itself and that Isaac had no need to worry.

And yet, when Boyd's Geo Metro pulled up to the front of a club called 'Armani Nightcap,' Isaac could feel his spirits sinking like a stone in water. The outside wasn't much, but Isaac knew better than to judge a nightclub by the outdoor appearance. He could only hope the interior décor fared better than the precocious name. Isaac hadn't sat in the backseat of a tiny Geo Metro getting high off the fumes of Erica's perfume for nothing.

It took some barking from Erica, but Boyd finally located the parking lot to the rear of the building. Isaac desperately searched for Derek's god-awful Toyota but it was nearly impossible to spot amongst the pile of obscure cars. An unusual amount of hybrid cars filled the lot, which only made Isaac's mood worsen. He really didn't want to imagine the type of clientele that frequented Armani Nightcap and were rich enough to drive a hybrid.

As they climbed out of Boyd's compact car and made their way inside, Isaac couldn't help but notice a single green dirt bike hidden among a throng of much better looking motorcycles near the front of the lot. Who rode a dirt bike to a night club? Isaac couldn't figure this place out.

He hadn't realized he'd been lingering outside until he heard Erica in front of him, calling for him to hurry up. If it hadn't been for her waving a frantic hand in his direction, he might never have noticed. The bass from the music nearly drowned out her voice.

Once inside, the music hit him with full force. The strobe lights from the main room were so bright, Isaac had to squint all the way in the foyer. Hastily, he pulled out his ID to present to the bouncer. All thoughts of sneaking drinks from older friends flew out the window when the bouncer took out a large permanent marker and drew a large X on Isaac's hand. Isaac frowned down at it and wondered if he could remove it somehow but before he could even begin to rub it off, Erica was pulling him inside.

If the initial shock of the nightclub hadn't been enough to throw Isaac off guard, the step into the main room was even worse. Isaac didn't normally mind bright flashing lights and the thump of bass so loud he could feel it in his chest. The problem stemmed from the sheer amount of people all crowded into one space. The body heat alone raised the temperature enough that Isaac would rather have been outside in the early summer heat.

No wonder most of the people on the dance floor were already half naked. Men took off their shirts and women slowly peeled off layers of clothing until they might as well have been shirtless. The night had just begun and some people were already partying as if it were one in the morning.

Originally Isaac thought that if he were able to sneak some alcohol into his system, he'd be able to let loose and actually dance. Once he saw the state of the dance floor, however, he changed his mind. It was one thing to dance like that with people he knew, but complete strangers? He might have considered it at seventeen, but with his sudden launch into adulthood, the recklessness no longer appealed to him.

Erica continued to drag Isaac and Boyd to a less crowded section of the club far from the speakers. Here, Isaac only had to speak loudly in front of someone's face as opposed to yelling in their ear to be heard.

"Is Allison here yet?" Isaac called out over the music.

Erica waved her cell phone in the air. "She said she was. I don't see her."

Boyd, who looked just as uncomfortable as Isaac felt, gave a nod further back to a corner spot nicely adorned with an L-shaped couch. "Derek's here."

Both Erica and Isaac whipped their heads around to see Derek grumping in the middle of the couch, comfortably seated in the corner of the 'L.' He had a glass of what Isaac assumed was water in front of him and a look on his face that suggested that dying was at the top of his priority list.

"What's he doing here?" Boyd asked.

Isaac felt his face grow hot. He'd conveniently forgotten to mention that he'd invited Cora and therefore Derek. Rather than admit this to Erica who would surely feel offended in one way or another, he simply held up a hand and said, "I'll go find out," and took off.

It was a miracle Derek had even confiscated that particular corner. Isaac wondered if certain club regulars always sat on that couch but Derek somehow managed to scare them away for the evening. Regardless, Isaac was grateful because the acoustics of the building helped create a tiny pocket most of the sound waves seemed to avoid. Once Isaac stepped into the alcove, the loud music softened immediately. If Isaac concentrated, he could actually hear Derek tapping his foot impatiently under the small table in front of the couch.

"Hey," said Isaac, giving Derek a little wave.

Derek glared at him. "You owe me."

"I don't owe you a thing. You could have just let Cora come with us. We're fine without you," Isaac snapped back at him. When Derek didn't answer, Isaac glanced around him. "Speaking of, where is Cora?"

"Getting a drink," Derek said crisply. He kept his eyes focused on a point behind Isaac. It didn't take a genius to know that Derek was watching his sister's movements like a hawk. Isaac bet if someone so much as looked at Cora, Derek would punch his lights out. Still, Isaac was impressed that Derek even let Cora go to the bar alone. She probably bribed him with something.

A few short seconds later, Erica and Boyd caught up to Isaac and immediately took a seat next to Derek on the couch. Erica gave him a grin and a soft punch in the arm. Derek rubbed the spot absent-mindedly but managed to give a small nod to the two of them without breaking eye contact with the bar.

Seeing as Isaac lived with the Hales for a short time before he moved in with Boyd, both Boyd and Erica had started to see the Hales as a sort of extension to Isaac's family. Isaac often felt like he was stuck between his family with Erica and Boyd and his Hale family. It wasn't often when the two factions collided but when they did, it felt more like a reunion than a casual night out with friends.

Rather than feel like he was in the middle of an impromptu Thanksgiving dinner in a most unlikely location, Isaac opted to excuse himself to find Cora at the bar.

It didn't take him long. All he had to do was keep himself within Derek's line of sight and he eventually found Cora leaning sideways against the bar and talking to a very pretty girl with red hair. No wonder Derek hadn't gone into complete attack-dog mode. Apparently girls weren't much threat to him. Isaac was no expert in body language, but he could easily tell that the redhead was every bit as dangerous as anyone else.

Isaac quickly stepped in and leaned against the bar just behind Cora. Rather than step in between the two of them, he ordered a cranberry juice. Loudly.

Cora froze mid-sentence and turned around quickly. "Isaac! You're here!"

If hugging were a thing Cora did regularly, Isaac would have prepared himself for the action, but she was the type of girl whose affectionate contact didn't stray far from her brother's. So when Cora threw her arm around Isaac's waist in an affectionate manner, Isaac's elbow slipped on the countertop and he had to steady himself with her body. The result made the two of them look more like a couple than anything. Isaac resisted the urge to flinch.

"Lydia, I want you to meet Isaac. He's my uh…" Clearly the struggle between 'friend' and 'brother' and 'co-worker' was just as hard for her to determine as it was for him. "Well, he's like a brother? I guess?"

Isaac only shrugged beside her. He still wasn't sure if he was supposed to be rescuing Cora from this Lydia person or not.

"Well, it's super nice to meet you, Isaac," Lydia said gracefully. She came off as the type of person that would be very helpful at a press conference—not that Isaac would ever have use for someone with that talent. She held out a perfectly manicured hand for Isaac to shake. "Isaac must be a really popular name these days. You wouldn't happen to be Mongolian Barbecue Isaac, would you?"

Isaac blanched. Cora snorted beside him and if she hadn't been wearing nice slacks, Isaac would have nudged her with his fashionable combat boots. "You a friend of Allison's?" he asked, completely shocked that he sounded so casual. He wanted nothing more than to run away once she'd revealed herself as having heard of him.

"Oh, you _are_!" Lydia clapped. "Allison's been waiting for you, let me just text her and let her know—"

Thankfully, the bartender interrupted them with the arrival Isaac's cranberry juice. Isaac took it with a forced smile and then squeezed Cora a little closer to him. "Come on," he said, his voice a little hushed so that Cora could hear it more than Lydia, "your brother is waiting for us."

"Oh!" Cora said quickly, understanding. "I gotta head back, but our group is just over by the corner couch. You should stop by? Ow!" This time, Isaac really did nudge her ankle with his boot.

Lydia didn't even look in the direction Cora indicated. She was too busy smiling in such a way that Isaac was sure she could see through him. Her eyes darted back and forth between Cora and Isaac before she became animated once more. "Sure! I'll find the others."

"You do that," Cora nodded, voice firm.

The actions of the two girls confused Isaac. He couldn't tell if they were being friendly or hostile. He was pretty sure all kinds of hidden meanings were being exchanged through glances but he couldn't understand any of them. All that mattered to him was getting back to the safety of the couch with Cora. He desperately needed to talk to her without the influence of anyone from Allison's group of friends.

With some strange stiff-handed wave, Cora left, still attached to Isaac's hip. Once they were out of earshot, Isaac finally unloaded on Cora.

"What was that all about?"

Cora sighed, completed ignoring Isaac's question. "Thanks for rescuing me from her."

"She didn't seem _that_ bad."

"I think she was flirting with me," Cora said. She glanced over at Isaac and giggled a little. "I mean, if she were a guy, I'd know right away, but it's so hard to tell with girls. She said she liked my pants and found it daring that a girl as pretty as me would wear them here."

"That's the worst pickup line I've ever heard," Isaac said, laughing. "In her defense, though, your pants are pretty awesome."

Cora stepped away from Isaac to make a little spin in front of him. She'd somehow managed to find a pair of solid black slacks that hugged her waist and hips, but didn't flare out until mid-calf. The loose fabric on the ends flapped around her like a long skirt as she moved. "Right? I never get to wear this crap at work. I never dress up, but when I do, at least I have taste. I'll give her credit for noticing. I didn't realize she was a friend of Allison's though. Weird coincidence, huh?"

"Yeah," Isaac murmured, the music drowning out his response. "Weird." She'd even called him Mongolian Barbecue Isaac, just like Scott. How many people had Allison told?

When they reached the couch, Derek seemed pleased that Isaac had rescued his little sister. Isaac's reward was a genuine, "Thank you." Isaac counted that as a win. Derek's nice demeanor, coupled with the fact that he looked so out of place when paired with such a younger crowd, actually cheered Isaac up a little. They'd inadvertently sandwiched Derek in between Erica and Cora. For a brief moment he forgot about the pile of nerves building in his stomach about how he'd deal with Allison and, most likely, Scott. He knew he couldn't avoid them forever seeing as the entire reason they were here was to wish some random kid named Stiles a Happy Birthday.

"So," Cora began once they were seated. Isaac was thankful that he'd gotten a seat near the edge. It would make for a quick escape if anything went sour. "As your official wingman, how would you like me to talk you up? We have several options."

"HA!" Erica laughed from the other side of Derek, "You say options like Isaac has date-able qualities."

"Hey, he's tall and has a job and is hilarious. Those are all very good qualities," Cora defended. Isaac wanted to sink into the cushions when both girls talked over him as if he weren't even there.

He allowed himself to mostly tune out both Erica and Cora as they discussed his dating options. As far as he could tell, Cora seemed adamant about setting Isaac up with Scott, while Erica remained steadfast that Isaac be with Allison—and yet no proper names or pronouns were used. Isaac gave Boyd a pleading look but Boyd only shook his head with a mocking grin. He was probably enjoying Isaac's dilemma.

In an effort to keep his mind off of everything, Isaac turned his attention to the crowd in front of him. The dance floor remained crowded, as did the bar. Patrons wore all manner of clothing—some almost professional looking while others dressed as though they were at a rave. Isaac wondered briefly if this Stiles kid was one of the ravers out on the dance floor. His name certainly suggested obscurity.

A sudden shift appeared in the crowed before him as it parted. The red hair of Lydia rolled out in waves as she forced partiers to clear a path. Just behind her came Allison in fishnet leggings and a long-sleeved white dress. She had one of those ridiculous belts that took up half her torso, but it somehow looked good on her. Isaac would have taken the time to admire it if he hadn't happened to see who else followed Allison to the corner. He allowed his jaw to drop.

Scott McCall.

But it wasn't Scott. He had the face of Scott McCall, but he'd done something to his hair. Instead of the mop Isaac had grown fond of, Scott must have gone to get his hair cut since the last time Isaac saw him. He now sported a sleek cropped look that added years to his appearance. Not to mention, he'd traded the faded jeans and patched up jacket for a pair of black jeans, a white undershirt and a form-fitting navy button-down. He no longer looked like this dopey, smiling Scott looking for Self-Improvement books. He looked like a man with a purpose.

Isaac didn't want to just get up and greet him; he really wanted to fake a proper greeting by going in to shake hands, then purposely pull Scott away. Away from the music and the lights and just talk. The topic didn't matter. He just needed to talk. To be near him.

As Isaac nudged Cora to stop yelling at Erica and look at the incoming group, he noticed a pair of hands appear on Scott's shoulders. A smiling pale-skinned kid with short brown hair popped up behind Scott and draped a casual arm around him. Scott smiled at him and they shoved at each other a little bit. With each passing second, Isaac couldn't help but glare ridiculously at the new guy. Who was he? Why was he so close to Scott?

Cora noticed as well and snickered. "Hey, there's hope for you, yet."

"Shut up," Isaac muttered. "They could be best friends, not boyfriends." The words were more of a reassurance to himself than anything.

"Hey." It was Lydia who spoke first, arms folded dramatically in front of her. She stood in between Allison and the Scott/New Guy duo in front of the couch. "Told you they were here."

Despite having clearly extended the invitation to Erica and friends, Allison turned her attention to Isaac. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

Isaac didn't say anything. He had nothing to say. He still wasn't sure if he was glad or not. On the one hand, there was a whole mess of a night to go through, but on the other hand… Scott in those jeans…

"Thanks for inviting us," Erica said, quickly stepping in. Her sudden response pulled Allison's gaze way from Isaac and toward her and for that, Isaac felt relieved. He settled a little into Cora. Not even a minute in and he was exhausted.

"Who are your friends?" Allison asked, indicating the extra guests. Once again, she tried to aim the question at Isaac.

Isaac said nothing.

This time it was Cora's turn to rescue him, but she delivered a swift kick to Isaac under the table before doing so. "I'm Cora. I work with Isaac. This is my brother, Derek."

Derek grunted, not at all happy to have even more kids around his sister's age surrounding him.

Allison's face fell a little but then she straightened up quickly, like she'd been pinched. Isaac swore he saw Lydia move beside her. "That's cool," she said quickly. "The more the merrier, right?"

Isaac nodded, still getting the feeling that she was talking to him. Allison's smile returned and she began to indicate the people around her, "You've met Lydia and Scott, already. This is Stiles."

"Yo," the short-haired guy next to Scott grinned. His face immediately contorted from something relatively normal into the epitome of mischievousness. Isaac had been wrong about Stiles dressing like a Rave Scene Kid, but he still looked like a little shit. "So you're the famous Isaac, yeah?"

Isaac raised an eyebrow, confused. "I wouldn't say 'famous.'"

"Are you kidding me? You're all these guys talk about! No offense, man, but I thought you'd be taller."

Unable to resist the urge, Isaac moved away from Cora and stood up from his end of the couch. He was glad he chose to wear his combat boots that night seeing as they made him just a little bit taller than usual.

The look in Stiles' eyes was enough to bring a little bit of confidence to Isaac's night. Isaac watched Stiles' Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. "Nevermind."

It felt a bit awkward to stand next to the couch so Isaac sat down gingerly next to a snickering Cora. Isaac chanced a glance upward to see Scott's eyes on him, his expression unreadable.

"Don't let Isaac intimidate you," Erica said tenderly. "He's a big puppy. Happy Birthday anyway, Stiles." Her smile even looked genuine. As if on cue, the rest of Isaac's group each muttered their required 'happy birthday's. Stiles beamed, seemingly fully recovered from Isaac's accidental intimidation. His shoulders subconsciously shrank in on themselves when he sat. He was so used to bringing himself down to the height of those around him, he often forgot how intimidating he might come off as to others. He wondered if Scott felt intimidated by him at all.

"Thanks, man. Look," said Stiles. He held up his hand, showing that it was completely void of a big black 'X.' "Best birthday, ever."

"Yeah, too bad you won't buy your friends drinks," laughed Scott, shoving Stiles a little.

"Hey, man. I've only been completely legal for a few hours," Stiles retaliated.

Cora waggled a finger at the both of them. "That's like buying a Mustang and crashing it the second you drive off the lot."

"Yeah…" Stiles said, trailing off, and then, louder, "Yeah! Exactly like that! What she said!" His gaze fell on Cora and lingered there a while. In fact, the way he looked at Cora in that moment said volumes. One volume in particular spoke of the fact that he was, in fact, not Scott McCall's potential boyfriend, and another volume clearly stated that Stiles would mostly likely attempt to flirt with Cora later that night. Cora picked up on it as well, and instinctively moved closer to her brother.

Isaac gave Cora a side-glare. He wasn't sure if that was part of her Operation: Wingman or not. It looked like no matter what, the two of them would have to stick together for the entire night if they were going to make it out alive—or at least in good spirits.

Allison piped up suddenly, changing the subject to something a little more comfortable. "Did you guys want to join us at our table? There's cupcakes."

"I'll go," Erica volunteered. Of course she would. She was the entire reason they were all there. Isaac didn't miss the look she gave him as she stood up. It was a look that clearly said _You will come with me or so help me you won't sleep properly for a week._ Isaac did his best to steel his nerves and shuffled off the couch. He didn't want Cora around the weird Stiles kid any more than she probably wanted to be, but she'd agreed to be a wingman. The whole point of them being there was so they could mingle with these new people. Isaac couldn't back out now. He was in for a penny, in for a pound.

So on his way up, he gave a suggestive nod to Cora, who got the picture immediately. It was a testament to their friendship that she even added a, "Hey, I'll go, too!" as if it were her own idea. Cora currently held the spot for Isaac's favorite person in the world.

Leaving Derek and Boyd to brood at the couch by themselves, Erica, Cora and Isaac followed Allison, Lydia, Scott and Stiles back to where Stiles' birthday party was in full swing. The entire trip, they'd had to walk single-file behind each other with Lydia at the front in order to get through the crowds. Just as Allison tried to make a dive to get in behind Isaac, she was pulled ahead by Stiles. In the end, Isaac found himself marching through the throngs of bar patrons behind the delicious body of Scott McCall.

Thousands of thoughts swarmed through Isaac's mind. He could so easily grab a hold of Scott's shoulder or waist or hand and claim that he didn't want to be left behind, and yet, Scott had mostly avoided Isaac's gaze the entire time they were within eyesight of each other so it just felt wrong. There had to be a way to break the ice.

Stiles' party happened to be in a raised section of the club and had confined itself to one table. Isaac half-expected to see a colorful cake and a multitude of presents, but instead he found a bunch of people their age standing or sitting around with chips and drinks. Hadn't Allison tried to bribe them with cupcakes? Where were the cupcakes? The table itself was being used as a sort of temporary place holder for purses and other belongings. It looked like they were just using the area as an excuse to keep the group together and still let everyone do their own thing as opposed to turning it into a structured party.

Isaac had never had a birthday party of his own before, but he naturally assumed all structured birthday parties probably stopped at about sixteen. He should have guessed.

Allison took the opportunity to introduce the three of them to Stiles' friends. Erica took to the situation like a fish to water, immediately getting into a conversation with a pretty girl named Heather about curling hair.

Isaac turned his attention back to Scott, hoping that he could think of something to say. Scott had gone so far as to abandon Isaac with Cora as he went about his business being Stiles' best friend. Isaac watched him laugh and joke with his friends. Even in the dim lighting, Isaac could see his dimples. Why wouldn't he look at Isaac? The chemistry they'd had at the bookstore seemed so natural. How could it get so complicated so fast?

The answer came quicker than Isaac anticipated when Allison popped up beside him, startling him. She bounced on her heels and grinned. "I'm gonna get a drink. Can I get you anything?"

Isaac remembered leaving his cranberry juice with Derek and Boyd at the couch. "I'm good, thanks," he replied shortly, holding up his hand so Allison could see the X.

Her grin broke into a playful smile. "I'll get you something if you promise not to tell."

The statement caught Isaac off guard. Derek and Boyd refused to get him a drink. Stiles even refused to buy drinks. But here was Allison, ready and willing. He almost wanted to see if she'd get Cora something too while she was at it. He took a chance to try and ask Cora, but she shook her head the tiniest bit when he looked at her. He swallowed, hard. "Yeah, just uh… just surprise me. I'll pay you back."

"You better." Allison disappeared with a flirty wink.

The second she was gone, Isaac felt himself deflate and he leaned into Cora for support. Her tiny frame stumbled a bit and she pushed at him with scoff. Why did Allison have to be so cool? Things would be so much easier if she just wasn't cool. "Fuck me," he sighed.

"Hey, woah, I'm a wingman. I ain't going that far," Cora said, shoving at him some more.

"This isn't going well," Isaac said, trying to keep his voice loud enough so that she could hear him, but no one else could. "He won't even look at me."

"In his defense, you're letting his ex-girlfriend flirt with you. He probably thinks you're off limits," Cora said with a shrug.

Isaac tried not to let his hands do the talking, but he found himself flinging them everywhere anyway. "I don't know what to say! And she keeps talking to _me_."

"Then how about you be a big boy and go over there and say 'hi.' Ask him how his transformation is going or something," Cora suggested.

"It's going well, obviously. Just look at him." Isaac almost sighed. He knew he was swooning and he was thankful for the dim lighting. Hopefully no one would notice. "He looks completely different from when I first met him."

"Maybe he has a fairy godmother."

"Maybe…"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Isaac, just GO," Cora said impatiently and shoved at Isaac with both hands. Cora was so much stronger than anyone gave her credit for, so Isaac found himself stumbling toward Scott like he'd already been drinking. He tried to stop himself before he made contact, but it was too late and two seconds later, Isaac found himself slamming his side into Scott's back.

"Sorry!" Isaac said immediately, trying to place some distance between himself and Scott. "I was just… I tripped."

"It's okay, man, no worries," Scott responded almost as quickly, but that was before he even turned around to see who hit him. Once his brown eyes came into view, his facial expression went from a smile to unreadable in less than a second. That didn't bode well for Isaac.

Isaac let his mouth bob open and shut for a moment while he tried to think of something to say. Cora had forced him into this without a plan and he was striking out, badly. It was not or never. In a rush of panic, Isaac said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Do you want to dance?"


	5. Chapter 5

Author Note: Another giant thank you for my awesome beta, ughcharlie~.

.

* * *

The words barely left Isaac's mouth before his panic doubled. He'd just said that to Scott—in front of all his friends. The very same friends that probably thought Isaac was on reserve for Allison. A couple friends gave catcalls behind Scott.

That wasn't what he'd meant to say at all.

"What?" Scott asked, his mouth bobbing open and shut in the state of half-shock, half-smile, like he'd been stuck between emotions and his face didn't know what to do. Isaac knew the feeling. He'd been in that state of mind often. The reaction happened in less than a few seconds, but Scott still hadn't said anything concrete. Isaac quickly remedied his question.

"Talk!" he said far too quickly and loudly. He didn't have to look behind him to know Cora was probably face-palming. "Do you want to talk?"

The half-smile didn't fade from Scott's face, but the shock slowly wore off. Isaac wondered briefly if maybe Scott preferred the dance question after all. "Yeah, okay," he said at length.

Isaac mirrored Scott's smile. "Cool, great, okay, yeah," he rambled, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. That had been so much easier than he'd thought. Scott wasn't even putting up a fight. Maybe, if Isaac pushed a little harder, he could get more than just a few brief sentences. The jeers from Scott's friends didn't seem to be ending, so before Isaac could embarrass himself further, he quickly added, "Do you mind if we move somewhere quieter?"

It was like Scott finally acknowledged that they were in the middle of a dance club surrounded by their peers. He snapped out of whatever smiling stupor he'd been in and looked around him. "Sure, my bad. I guess talking works better without loud bass music for ambience."

They didn't go far. Scott only directed Isaac to the far end of the table. Here, the amount of jackets and purses increased and surrounded a large Rubbermaid container full of cupcakes. No wonder this area of the table was vacant: no one wanted to be the first to dig into the cupcakes. It was temptation at its finest.

"So," Scott said first, leaning back on the chair casually. Isaac hated how nonchalant he looked. The fact that he was so well-dressed and incredibly well-groomed was still off-putting. Isaac had grown used to the shaggy haired skater-type Scott. This new Scott somehow managed to increase his eye-candy quality by one hundred percent and Isaac couldn't stop staring. He had to force himself to look at the second most beautiful thing in the room: the cupcakes.

"So…" Isaac mimicked, still trying not to look at how Scott's jawline became more pronounced now that he wasn't hiding behind all that hair.

"Mongolian Barbecue Isaac, huh?"

Hearing that nickname caused Isaac to flinch. "It was a favor for Erica, okay? She asked me to go."

"You made quite an impression on her."

"I thought I was being incredibly boring. She must like boring people."

"Hey," Scott interjected, looking offended, "she dated me, you know."

"But not anymore," Isaac pointed out. "Maybe you were too interesting for her."

Scott broke out into a grin. "I knew there was something awesome about you, and not just your ability to find books."

"Speaking of books," Isaac said quickly, thankful for the change of subject. "How's your quest for self-improvement?"

Scott held his arms out, like he was showcasing himself. "So far so good, right? I figured if I change my outside, my inside would sort of just… follow."

"Is it working?"

"No idea." Scott shrugged. "I did it to become a better person, but I actually feel worse."

"Worse? How can you feel—"

"Isaac! There you are!"

Isaac jumped in his seat, amazed that he could be startled in a place with such loud music. He hadn't expected to hear his name from behind. Scott went from nonchalantly slouching in his seat to almost sitting on the edge, like he planned to get up and leave.

Isaac whirled around to see Allison bouncing toward the two of them, two drinks in hand. She didn't seemed phased at all to see Isaac and Scott talking. "I got you a whiskey sour," she said brightly, holding up two bright yellow drinks. "Apparently it's less suspicious if I order two of the same."

"Um, thanks," Isaac muttered as he reached out for the drink. He'd been so caught up in everything that was Scott McCall that he'd forgotten Allison would probably be looking for him. He chanced a look over at Scott, who seemed to be watching him carefully. Isaac wished they could continue their conversation but with Allison there, it just felt awkward.

He took a quick sip of the drink and made a face. The tangy sourness of the drink bit at the sides of his tongue, but he could tell it was strong. He coughed a bit, but only because the taste caught him by surprise. After another sip, be gave Allison a thumbs up for confirmation. "How much do I owe you?"

"Just a dance," Allison said with a smile. "The faster you finish, the faster we can get out there before the crazy people hog the dance floor."

Isaac looked out over the club toward the dance floor. So many bodies mashed against each other, it was hard to determine who was male and who was female. The multitude of lights flashing to the beat of the music only added to the chaos. Isaac swallowed another large drink of his whiskey sour for courage. "If that's tame, I'm not sure I want to know what crazy looks like."

"Come on; it'll be fun!" Allison coaxed. To demonstrate her readiness, she took out the straw from her drink and downed it like a shot. She swayed a bit and pursed her lips until her body regulated itself, then set her glass down and motioned for Isaac to follow.

Isaac looked down at his drink, knowing full well it was suicide to try and down it all at once. Allison had to be superhuman. She'd already showed that she was made of tougher stuff on their first date. Isaac admired that in her. He really didn't mind going out and dancing with her—the only problem was that he would rather be dancing with someone else. If only Allison and Scott weren't in the same social circle. Life would have been so much easier.

Eventually, Isaac knew what he had to do. "You go on ahead," he said eventually. "I know Erica's been dying to dance. Go out with the girls and I'll catch up when I finish the drink, okay?"

"Promise?" Allison didn't bother hiding her disappointment.

"Promise." Isaac watched as Allison spun around on her heel and focused her attention on Erica. In a couple of seconds, a chain reaction occurred as the girls each grabbed another girl, who in turn grabbed one more girl. What had started as Allison and Erica going down to the dance floor alone had turned into an entire group of girls stumbling over each other and giggling as they traveled together.

Cora took up the rear, being dragged by the hand by Lydia. The moment she turned around and made eye contact with Isaac, she raised up her free hand to flip him off. Isaac waved back.

With Allison gone for another minute or two, Isaac allowed himself to relax. "Sorry about that," he directed toward Scott. "What were you saying?"

When Scott didn't answer, Isaac finally looked over to find his chair empty. When had he left? Isaac stood up quickly and tried searching for him, but there was so much movement in the club that it was nearly impossible. It didn't help that Scott opted to wear dark colors and therefore unintentionally blended into the dark ambience of the club. Just where had he gone? And why?

Isaac abandoned his unfinished whiskey sour next to the cupcakes and started searching. Had he done something to make Scott angry? It didn't take a genius to connect the dots between Scott's reaction at the bookstore with Allison and tonight. Whenever Allison was around Isaac, Scott made himself scarce.

Just before leaving the birthday party table, Isaac remembered how close Scott was with Stiles. Surely Stiles would know where Scott had disappeared to? It was easier to find Stiles, seeing as he'd made himself comfortable at the other end of the table, his feet propped up on the tabletop as he nursed a bottle of Bud Light.

"Goliath!" Stiles greeted him, his voice already heavy with drink. Isaac could tell by the various bottles around him that this wasn't his first drink of the evening. "I have a message for you. From Scott."

Isaac raised his eyebrows. That was fast. Scott couldn't have had that much time to get up, leave a message with Stiles and then leave. "Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

Isaac's jaw went slack, but before he could even retaliate, Stiles burst out into giggles. Isaac glared. "I'm just kidding," Stiles gasped between chuckles. "Lighten up, stick man. He just said he was going home."

"Home?" Isaac shouted. That wasn't much better. His eyes darted toward the front door where sure enough, Scott McCall was talking to a bouncer. "But it's your birthday! Why is he leaving?"

Stiles only shrugged. "He'll be back. He's my Desi-D."

"Why would he come back just to drive you home? Oh nevermind," Isaac scoffed, pushing past the drunk Stiles. He knew better than to argue with a mind slowed down by alcohol. He'd lived with it enough in his old life.

Isaac shoved his way through the crowd of dancers and drinkers. With every step toward the door, Isaac's anger grew. He became suddenly angry at Erica for dragging him out here, Cora for urging him toward Scott, Allison for being the wrong person at the wrong place at the wrong time, and himself for allowing all of this to happen.

He flashed the X on his hand at a bouncer before leaving. As soon as he passed the threshold to the club, the wave of noise fell behind him like a passing car. Isaac hadn't realized just how still the world really was until he no longer felt bass music vibrating in his chest.

A couple of bar patrons stood outside in a designated smoking area, but aside from them, Isaac couldn't see anyone else. He was about to grab the attention of one to ask if they'd seen anyone matching Scott's description when the rev of a motor forced Isaac to look to the opposite direction.

Scott McCall sat on the green dirt bike Isaac had seen on their way in, a dark helmet obstructing most of his facial features. Isaac immediately recognized the outfit. How long had he been staring at his new physique?

Isaac knew he didn't have time. Scott had already started the engine and would be backstepping himself from the space in a second. With very little effort, Isaac forced his legs to move, thankful for once that they were so long.

"Scott!" he called out over the engine, hoping Scott could hear.

His hopes fell, when Scott revved the engine again, but by that time, Isaac had closed the distance between them. When he called Scott's name a second time, Scott's fingers hesitated over the gear shift and he steadied himself on the bike, lifting the helmet off his head.

"Isaac?" Scott asked, confusion spreading across his features.

Isaac bent over slightly, forcing himself to catch his breath. He had no idea what he was going to say. He'd acted on impulse. What had he expected to happen once he caught up with Scott? "You left without saying bye," he said eventually, knowing full well how stupid it sounded.

Scott rolled his eyes, confirming for Isaac that what he said wasn't exactly the coolest sounding statement. "Go back inside and dance with Allison," he demanded, his face unreadable.

"Why?" Isaac asked, dumbfounded.

"Because this is me taking my own advice and becoming a better person."

Isaac frowned mostly because that wasn't a direct enough answer for him. "You said you were getting worse, not better, but you never said why."

Scott didn't answer him right away. Isaac could see the internal struggled written all over his face. Eventually, Scott took a deep breath and put his helmet back on. "It's jealousy, okay? Jealousy makes me a terrible person."

Before he could even let Isaac reply, he pushed his bike backwards from its parking spot, set it in gear and drove away.

Isaac watched him leave. He tried to ignore the terrible pit growing in his stomach.

-o-o-o-o-

* * *

The rest of the night blurred together. Isaac remembered going back inside and telling Stiles his ride left without him. He remembered finishing the drink Allison had given him, but he didn't remember ever going to the dance floor. Just being near Stiles' table pissed him off so he spent the rest of the evening sitting on the couch with Derek and Boyd, glaring at the lights.

Erica and Allison came back several times trying to pull Isaac from the couch to the dance floor, but he refused, knowing full well he broke his promise to Allison. He couldn't be bothered to go through the motions.

At some point, Cora arrived toting a drunk Stiles over her shoulder. She felt guilty about his ride leaving and volunteered to take him home. She argued it was the civil thing to do. Isaac didn't bother telling her that her guilt was fabricated. It was his fault Scott left and his alone.

Derek was more than happy to leave Armani Nightcap behind him, so the minute Cora suggested they get out of there, he jumped at the opportunity. Rather than wait for Erica and Allison to finish the night, Isaac asked if he could ride home with the Hales and they agreed.

Isaac dozed on and off in the backseat of Derek's Toyota until they reached what Stiles was pretty sure was his house. Cora helped the inebriated mess out of the SUV and promised her brother she would only take him to the front door. Derek didn't seem to buy it and glared out the window harsher than ever.

"I don't think he'll take advantage of her," Isaac said at length, letting his head rest against the coolness of the backseat window.

"I know," Derek growled. "But I'm not taking any chances."

"There's a cop car in his driveway," Isaac pointed out.

"Doesn't mean he's a perfect little angel," Derek grunted. "She better not go inside. I've given her enough passes for tonight."

"She's old enough to make her own decisions, you know," Isaac muttered.

"As long as she lives under my roof, she's my responsibility."

"Okay, brother-dad," Isaac mocked. Derek barely gave the effort to turn around in the driver's seat and give Isaac a proper glare.

Apparently Stiles made it inside without incident because soon Cora hurried back down the driveway and quickly dove into the passenger's seat in record time.

"Hurry and drive," she said, "His dad is the Sheriff. That was the most awkward moment in the world and I want to get out of here."

-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Isaac ended up staying the night in his old bed: the Hale couch. Neither Derek nor himself could be bothered to take him all the way back home, so it worked out well for both of them.

It was a lot harder to fall asleep than Isaac thought, despite the heaviness of his eyelids. His mind still raced. He couldn't get Scott's last words out of his head.

Jealousy.

Jealousy over him? Allison? Did he only want to be Isaac's friend when Allison wasn't around? Isaac knew exactly what he wanted the answer to be, but he didn't want to say it to himself. Saying it created hope and hope was something Isaac couldn't afford. It would hurt too much.

His phone buzzed with a text from Erica.

/_You ok?/_

Isaac stared down at his phone and a surge of emotions washed over him. No, he wasn't okay. He'd been passively allowing everyone in his life to dictate his next actions. He hadn't been taking anything into his own hands. He needed to be assertive and he knew it. No more allowing everyone to walk all over him and leave him in the dust.

He knew where he needed to start. He sent a quick text back:

/_Staying the night Cora's. Don't set me up with Allison again./_

Having found a new sense of freedom, Isaac finally allowed himself to sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

The next morning, Isaac woke up to a loud pounding on Derek's front door. He was alarmed at first, but it turned out to be Erica arriving bright and early to pick up Isaac without anyone having told her to. Isaac found her punctuality a little strange until he opened the door to the bright Sunday morning, only to be met with a sudden pain on the side of his face.

Isaac doubled over in shock more than pain. When his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he found himself face to face with an extremely angry set of brown eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Erica shouted.

Confused, Isaac rubbed his face. "Waking up? What do you mean?"

"Check your phone, dumbass," Erica demanded, her voice dripping with malice. She was absolutely one hundred percent the scariest female in existence.

Isaac stumbled back inside and grabbed his phone from the couch. He'd slept through several texts and missed calls. The look on Erica's face told him he really didn't want to see what they had to say.

"I had to console an extremely drunk and extremely upset friend last night because /_someone/_ doesn't know how to send a text to the right number," Erica said, still fuming.

With a panicked sense of urgency, Isaac opened his inbox. He knew exactly what he'd find as soon as she said those words. He hadn't sent that text to Erica last night at all. He'd sent it to Allison.

"Crap," said Isaac.

"Crap is right," said Erica. "You owe her an apology. And seven bucks for that drink."

Isaac could do nothing but nod. He'd gotten himself into this mess with his passive aggressiveness. He knew it was up to him to dig himself out…. And he had a rather large hole to fill in.

Derek was upset with him for ruining his Saturday night, Boyd was probably upset with him for being forced out and then forgotten, Allison was mad at him for obvious reasons, Stiles was probably mad at him for making his ride drive home without him, Scott seemed upset with him for talking to Allison, Erica was mad at him for just about everything and Isaac wouldn't be surprised if Cora was pissed off at him too, for some reason or another.

Maybe it wasn't Scott that needed all those Self Improvement books. Maybe it was Isaac.


End file.
